Facade
by Indigo Tantarian
Summary: A fugitive from the law and an agent of the government set out to escape the system that binds them both. (started from a "Factventure dystopia" 3-sentence fic, which is why the first 3 sentences/paragraphs are large and condensed)
1. Cracked

**Cracked Facade**

The big scruffy man shot a dark glare at the small, neat man in his official uniform who walked into the interrogation room quietly and closed the door, walking over and leaning down close to say, "The fact is, you have two options now: I can take you below, and you will never again see the light of day… or we can fight our way up past five floors of guards and officials, and have a 23% chance of fleeing the country."

It was the same offer he made to everyone, approved by his superiors as a final test of loyalty, of intelligence, of common sense, and of logical thinking: Of COURSE it was a trap, it was so OBVIOUS, and of course, no one in their right mind would fall for it.

But this ragged fugitive from outside the city-system looked him right in the eye, not with trust (no one had trusted him since he was a small boy, and rightly so), but with wild, hopeless determination, and said, "When do we leave?" and Craig felt a painful flutter of hope in his chest.

Craig took the standard-issue pistol from his belt and flipped off the safety. "Stand up," he ordered, pointing it at the other.

The bigger man's eyes hardened. He didn't move.

Craig looked him dead in the eye. He was smaller and weaker, almost frail next to the muscly bulk, but he stood firm. "…A 23% chance that decreases with every moment you lack the courage to move," he hissed flatly.

The distrustful green-eyed stare continued, but the other man slowly pushed out the chair and got to his feet after a moment. "If yer gonna shoot me, better do it now," he growled.

"I may not. That is a chance YOU will have to take."

Still the man hesitated. Craig's eyes narrowed dangerously and the gun tilted slightly. Hatred grew in the green eyes.

"You can accompany me now, and have a 20.1% chance of survival, or you can refuse, and you chances drop to zero."

"It was 23 before."

"I mentioned that likelihood of success decreases with every moment you fail to take action."

They stared each other down. Then the green-eyed man's mouth tilted up in a dangerous smirk.

"Name's Rick," he growled low, not friendly, but at least a bit more open.

"I know," Craig said shortly.

"Well? I'm not goin' anywhere with you if I don't even know yer name."

"That is a terribly flawed principle," Craig said seriously, fingering the pistol. "I am Craig Winther, Deputy of Interrogation, second class.

"Second class, huh?" Rick drawled, his smirk turning nasty. "Guess you must not know the right people." He stood slowly, balancing with his tightly bound wrists behind him. "Don't shoot me in the back, Craig."

Craig's face remained hard, and he gestured with his gun for Rick to move. This shouldn't have happened, no one accepted the offer, he should take Rick back to the cells immediately, if not straight to the Equalizing Chamber. This was a bad idea, a TERRIBLE idea. He had never even THOUGHT of something so stupid before, because even the thought would have led to disaster. Immediate personal disaster.

He opened the door and spoke to the guard, who hurried off. Then he gestured with the gun for Rick to precede him.

"You shoot me, an' I'll strangle ya before you c'n blink," Rick rumbled threateningly.

Craig quietly stepped forward, pressing the muzzle of the gun hard to Rick's heart. He leaned closer. "You are in no position to make demands," he growled low.

Rick eyed him angrily. Craig stared back.

At last the scruffy man muttered something under his breath and turned. Craig attached a strong, retractable chain swiftly to Rick's handcuffs, then gave him a rough tap with the gun. Rick stepped out into the hall, his mouth set in a grim line.

Craig's mind careened wildly as they marched down the hall. Now and then someone passed by the other way. They never made eye contact.

This was… it was insane. He couldn't be doing this. It was too late to back out now, though. – No, that was stupid, it wasn't too late at all. He could still march Rick straight down to the cells. There was still time. It was completely feasible. That's what he would do, and he would carry out the Equalizing himself, and no one would EVER know of the errant thoughts this strange man caused.

He nudged Rick into the elevator, and stepped in himself. He stood like a statue until the doors closed.

And he pressed the button for the ground floor.

The elevator began to rise smoothly, artificial air blowing cool on their necks. Rick twisted around a little to look at him. His expression was still guarded, but there was an uncertainty there.

"You really gonna do this?" he asked softly.

"Don't speak," Craig snapped. It was stupid, it was dangerous, he knew better, it would get them both killed in horrible ways, him especially. He would be made a public example of first. And he had plenty of enemies. He didn't know a single person who would hesitate to gouge out his eyes with a rusty knife, given the chance.

When this kind of thing happened, and it DID occasionally, the employee was always made an example of. Usually tortured and humiliated to death in public. And everyone contributed to that torture and humiliation. Some because they believed what they were told, some out of genuine hate… most out of fear. There were usually a few at the back of the crowd, too afraid to stay away, but too closely tied to the victim to bear seeing them like that.

There would be no one like that when Craig was caught. He had always accepted that fact. Now, though, it wore a small hole in his heart. No one.

"Hey."

Rick startled him out of his brooding, and his head jerked up in irritation. They were nearing the ground floor.

"Just continue walking," Craig said flatly. "Do not speak to anyone. Do not LOOK at anyone. Do NOT stop moving unless I tell you. Set one toe out of line and I will have no compunctions about shooting you."

"You got it." The hard defensiveness was still there, but there was something dawning behind it that Craig had never seen before. He had no word for it, but it looked strong and bright.

Admiration, possibly? No, not quite. Closer to excitement, only quieter, smaller, but more… focused.

The doors parted with a soft hiss, and Craig hesitated for a second to take in the lobby. The elevators were back in an alcove. He knew the back ways of the facility, of course. Walking out the front door would be suicide.

Out in the main lobby, people walked here and there, some speaking quietly, most of them silent. This was not the sort of place for laughter or animated conversation. Craig quickly pushed at Rick, and they turned to the right, down a dark, narrow hall, to a little door on the left with a keypad and scanner that opened into the bright –

"Wh – Whoa, mate! Who're you? What are you doing out here? Nobody's supposed to be here!"

Craig's heart skipped a beat, and he reeled back. Rick had stopped dead.

The man with mousy brown hair quickly dropped his cigarette and stomped on it. "Come on now," he said with a bit more force. "I want some answers RIGHT NOW, mister!"

Then he squinted into the darkness behind Rick, and gave a strangled gasp as he staggered back a step. "O-oh! Uh… Didn't see you there. Sir. Sorry. Um… I'm sorry."

Craig straightened up instantly and poked Rick forward, striding out behind him. "Are you on your smoking break, Mr. Wheatley?" he asked sharply.

"Ah… I… well…" Wheatley looked around frantically, then flashed a sickly smile. "I… Of course I am. I mean, why else would I be here? Out here, smoking." He looked down forlornly at the cigarette he had stepped on.

Craig stared at him blankly. "…And yet, as you yourself mentioned just seconds ago, no one is supposed to be here." He looked slowly from side to side. "This is not, as you must be WELL aware, the designated smoking area."

"Um… well no, I – ha, I'm… I'm aware of that, yes… Uh… It's just… the… DESIGNATED area gets so… so crowded! I'm always stepping on people's toes over there! So I thought, best to take one for the team, be the bigger man, and just… just find my own space. You know?" He smiled desperately.

Rick shifted his weight subtly, but Wheatley noticed. "Who's this, anyway? Who're you?" He looked the big man up and down doubtfully. "You can't be an assistant, you're too…" His face wrinkled in disgust. "Actually, if I'm being totally honest, you look like a convict, mate."

Rick's eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Wheatley, you are to return to your post immediately. Your break is over, and you are NOT to use this door again," Craig commanded.

Wheatley's face fell. "Ah… right. Um… Just…" He fumbled in his pockets, then stopped and looked up again. "Just… what are YOU doing out here, then? With HIM?"

Craig's face grew stormy. "My business has never been any of your concern. Asking questions is MY job, not yours."

"Right, right, sorry…" Wheatley backed off, fumbling with the doorknob. "…Ah… It's locked…" He laughed nervously. "Can't believe it, I could've sworn I shoved a pen in there so it wouldn't… wouldn't close on me again. Just my luck, eh?" Slowly his face fell into a worried expression. "But… Listen, I don't mean to question you… Not at all! Definitely the LAST thing on my mind, don't you worry… but this doesn't seem right." He gestured at Rick. Craig's lip twitched, and Wheatley leaned closer, his smoky breath going straight up Craig's nose. "Is he threatening you, mate? Because I can help you out, I'm… I'm quite good at self-defense. I know all kinds of… all SORTS of moves! I know…"

"You know how to shut yer mouth fer two seconds?" Rick growled, and as Wheatley turned, he stepped forward and went to knee him in the gut, making Wheatley stumble backwards.

"You IDIOT," Craig hissed.

"I KNEW you were trouble!" Wheatley gasped. He pulled his own pistol, much smaller than Craig's, a flimsy little one-shot contraption, out of its holster with surprising speed and pointed it straight at Rick. "Just you… you back away. You picked the WRONG man to mess with, OH yes. Now… now put your hands where I can see them."

Rick was taut with annoyance, and he turned a bit to show Wheatley his bound wrists. His green eyes remained on the man with the gun… and the other man behind him, raising his own gun up to slam down on Wheatley's head. It would have worked, had Wheatley not turned just then to smile proudly at Craig. The butt of the gun scraped the side of his horrified face.

"Wh-what… What did you do THAT for?" Wheatley asked, aghast. Then realization dawned slowly. "Wait a minute… You're… you're in LEAGUE with him! I can't believe it, YOU, straight-laced, stuck-up, LAW-ABIDING –"

Rick delivered a powerful kick to the back of Wheatley's knees and swung around to punch him with his bound fists as he fell. Craig was already dashing forward, and this time the gun connected with Wheatley's skull with a sickening THUNK. The man crumpled with a small whimper.

Rick and Craig stared at each other. Craig's breathing was quick and shallow. He clenched his hands tightly to try to stop them from trembling, but didn't quite succeed.

Rick suddenly smiled. It was a big expression, stretching across his whole face, and there was an unfamiliar openness and warmth there.

Something in Craig's heart lifted. Just a small piece, he could almost feel it detaching from the rest of the heavy organ. His chin came up a bit, and his own expression lightened for the briefest of moments.

But it quickly set into returned to grim determination. "Remaining here is a bad idea. Especially with him here." He nodded to Wheatley on the ground.

"Well shit, let's get goin', then," Rick agreed.

"Wait."

Rick frowned suspiciously again. Craig gestured for him to turn around, managing to keep the gun from shaking too hard. And the bigger man complied, slowly.

Craig took out his keys, flipping to the right one before touching it gently to the handcuffs. They popped apart and retracted, and he caught them as they fell. Rick brought his hands in front of him, stretching and flexing his arms, and rubbing his wrists. He looked up at Craig slowly, his expression unreadable.

"Think you c'n trust me?" he asked wryly.

"No. But you will be of more use with your hands at your disposal.

Rick offered a slight grin. "Got that right. C'mon."

They darted between buildings and through alleys, stopping here and there to watch and listen.

"Rick," Craig tried out the other man's name, looking at him seriously. "If we're caught… make sure they kill you. Don't… don't let them capture you again."

"Why?" Rick frowned.

"It will not be pleasant."

"So what's yer plan?"

Craig's head jerked up, and he wasn't able to completely hide the panic in his face. "I… don't know."

Rick nodded slowly. "You leave it to me, then," he said firmly. "I don't know this place that well, so 'm gonna need yer help there. But I'll get us outta here."

Craig stared at him. He seemed entirely serious, even to Craig's trained eye.

Then his face relaxed for a second, and he flashed that big smile again. "C'mon, it'll be an adventure."

"We are both likely to die. Horribly," Craig muttered, glancing down as visions of torture flitted through his mind. He knew them all. He had developed some of them himself. And more were constantly being invented.

A strong hand closed over his arm, the one that held the gun. Instinctively his hand jerked up, but it was blocked by the big arm.

Rick was still smiling, but it wasn't so impossibly big anymore. "Relax, pal. Worryin's not gonna do ya any good."

"Let go," Craig spat. Rick did so quickly, holding up his hand in a peaceful gesture.

"Fine. …There's too many people around here. We're gonna have to wait 'til night."

Craig looked around uncomfortably. There wasn't anywhere to wait. Anyone caught loitering would be questioned.

"In here." Rick nodded to a rather shabby building on the left. He tried the door, then reached under his messy collar to pull out a small, thin piece of metal. He poked around into the keyhole for a moment until he heard a soft click, and he quietly opened the door.

Craig watched in fascination. He wouldn't go through before Rick, but when they finally did and closed the door, Craig turned to the bigger man. "The inhabitants may return soon."

"Nah, nobody's comin' in here any time soon. Look at the dust. Nobody's been here in a while."

Craig looked around and nodded slowly. That made sense. The evidence was there.

"Most modern keys are electronic," he said softly, staring as Rick fingered the little piece of metal. "How… did you do that?"

"I c'n show ya. It's not hard. C'mon."

For a few fascinating minutes, Craig leaned over the doorknob with Rick, watching the other man lock and unlock the door using only the little rod of metal. Then he tried it himself. It looked simple, but he made numerous attempts before he managed it.

"There ya go!" Rick said encouragingly, smiling again. "Nice!"

Craig stared at him for a moment before handing the piece of metal back. "It is a regrettably slow way of getting past an inferior locking mechanism."

"Worked well enough."

"And it would have done you no good at all in Aperture. Or any contemporary building."

Rick shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We're outta there."

Craig fell to silent brooding. Rick walked around the ground floor, avoiding windows, poking into cabinets. He made no attempt to ascend the stairs after the third step creaked loudly under him.

It was early in the afternoon, and before long, both men were twitching at every sound, pacing with pent-up energy.

"Ya know what'll make this easier? If we try lookin' a little different," Rick suddenly said. He went to search through some drawers. "Especially you. Somebody's gonna recognize you. …Guess yer dumb friend back there's right, too. I DO look pretty suspicious."

"You do," Craig agreed, his eyes darting around. "Be quiet."

"Would ya quit worryin' at everything?" Rick complained. He came over holding a pair of scissors with black handles.

Craig shot up and turned on him in a flash, his whole body tense.

"Wouldja RELAX? Here." Rick turned the scissors around to hand them to Craig handles first. "Couldn't find a razor, but a haircut'd sure help slip past security."

The smaller man hid the tremor that ran down his spine. "That will NOT be enough to save you," he growled.

"Nah, but it'll help. C'mon."

"What – I am NOT a barber, I've never cut anyone's hair!"

"No problem, I don't need it even, just shorter. Less…" Rick waved a hand around, searching for the word. "Just less. Less hair."

"You must be EXTREMELY stupid to hand me a weapon and turn your back on me."

"You've already GOT a weapon, an' you've seen my back all day. If you were gonna kill me, I figure you had plenty 'a chances already." He flashed a dark smile, then turned to sit down on the floor in front of a plastic chair. "Now c'mon. I've gotta look different."

Slowly, Craig moved to the chair. He took the scissors. "It… will not be neat."

"Doesn't have to be."

It took a lot of convincing, but finally Craig began gingerly cutting Rick's hair, though he flinched every time a piece fell. Rick stood still, all too aware of the shaking hands, working from the top down, getting close to his ears, hesitating more and more with each cut…

Rick leaned forward, away from the scissors, and turned around. "Why don't ya let me do you first?" he offered quietly. He held out his hands. "Look, I coulda killed you before, too. Had plenty 'a time. We're in this together, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Craig's face twisted into an ugly snarl. "I don't… I HARDLY think YOU could hurt me, I am ENTIRELY prepared to defend myself…"

Rick stood up and walked slowly around to Craig's back. He patted a narrow shoulder, making it flinch. "I hope you are," he said softly. Then he took the scissors from the shaking hands. "Now hold still. I'll try to make it… even."

Craig took a slow, shuddering breath, and closed his eyes. He could shoot Rick right now. He could get out of here, go back, and claim he'd been taken against his will. He'd heard the comments about his competence in a fight. People would believe it.

Big hands smoothed his hair down, and the scissors began to snip, starting at the back of his head. The scissors worked around to the right, and Craig tensed up more and more. When a finger brushed his ear, he couldn't help but jump.

Rick stopped. "Easy there," he murmured, stroking the hair around the ear. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. It's not lookin' too bad so far. Prob'ly not really yer style, but it'll grow back." He moved around to Craig's bangs. The smaller man's eyes were tightly shut, and he was still trembling and breathing hard. "Yer okay. See, if ya go up from the bottom, it's pretty easy. Then just clip around on top at the end. You'll look just fine." He took a hank of hair between his fingers and snipped up along it. All around Craig's head he went, smoothing, holding, cutting. Thin, pale hair fell away. Then he went back, trying to even it out.

"Not too bad," he finally said, stepping back. "Hold on, lemme get the extra off."

Big hands ruffled and brushed through Craig's hair, not gracefully, but with surprising gentleness. They were warm, Craig thought with a start. No one else had touched him in… he couldn't remember how many years. Since he was very young. He took a shuddering breath.

"There," Rick said softly. "Looks just like ya asked somebody to do it. I used to cut my little brothers' hair, ya know. My sister's too." Craig didn't move, so Rick continued. "There're six of us. …Were. Last I knew, just three 'a us were left. And our mom. Not even sure about that anymore."

He lapsed into silence.

"I… don't know if I want to do this, Rick."

Rick nodded slowly. "…Well… can't say I blame ya," he said heavily. "It's a shit-hole out there. I guess you got a pretty sweet deal in this place. Gotta be honest, I wasn't expectin' you to gimme a way outta there. Thought I was gonna die."

"…I make that offer to everyone," Craig said distantly. "It has been approved by my superiors. It is a test."

Rick went still. "…You sayin' this whole thing's a set-up?" he asked dangerously, clenching the scissors tightly.

"No one has ever accepted… and then reacted as you did."

"Figured I didn't have much to lose." Rick stared down at the smaller man who still trembled a bit. "You did ALL that, though. Made the offer, got us straight outta there, attacked that guy…"

A large shudder wracked Craig's thin frame. "I shouldn't… I don't know… why," he said, voice shaking.

Rick's hand came to rest on his shoulder blade, very lightly. "Maybe yer sick 'a livin' like this, an' yer not the type to just bash a hole through the wall an' make a run fer it, but if ya get what looks like a pretty good chance… yer gonna take it."

After a moment Craig pried his eyes open and looked up.

"What… is life like outside?" he asked, barely whispering. "Is the resistance very large?"

Rick gave him a tired look. "That's a story," he said flatly. "The whole thing's a damn lie. There's… not even enough of us out there for a resistance. Sometimes somebody tries to break in an' do some damage, but…" He trailed off, looking very troubled. "…We keep away from each other mostly. Unless ya got a family."

"Were you… born out there?" an odd tendril of curiosity unfurled in Craig's mind.

"Nah. Lived on the inside 'til I was fifteen. My dad was dead-set on gettin' us out, all eight 'a us. He an' my big brother died tryin'. Mom raised the rest 'a us. I helped out all I could; kinda had to be the man of the family. Didn't mind most 'a the time, but I didn't have a choice either."

Craig didn't answer.

"You got a family? …Married, maybe?"

The interrogator gave a short, humorless snort. "No. Don't be ridiculous."

"Figured it wasn't out 'a the question. You feelin' better now?"

Craig gave him an odd frown, and his hands rose to touch his hair lightly. His face twitched slightly. "It… is much shorter than I prefer."

"Like I said, it'll grow out. I got it pretty even, though." Rick rubbed lightly up and down the back of Craig's head. The smaller man's shoulders tensed, but his head tipped back a bit.

"…All right," Craig finally said with a small sigh. "This won't be attractive."

Rick let out a real laugh at that, handing Craig the scissors and sitting in front of him. "On top 'a THIS face? Nothin's gonna make me ugly, don't you worry!"

Craig paused. "You are ridiculous," he muttered, bending over to begin cautiously cutting at Rick's hair.

"But ya can't say it's not true."

The smaller man rolled his eyes. Rick didn't see this, and grinned at the silence.


	2. Shattered

**Shattered Facade**

The two men waited until darkness to make a move. Whenever they heard footsteps outside, they both froze. At least five times every hour, Craig gave serious thought to leaving, to going back to the facility. Sometimes he actually walked to the door. He looked out the dusty windows frequently. But when the sirens began, he leapt back and huddled against a desk.

"Th-they'll find us," he stammered, and swallowed. "They're looking for us now. W-we're… going to die. We should turn ourselves in now."

"Hold on there, we're not caught yet. 'Sides, you said we can't let 'em catch us. Make sure they kill us, right? Turnin' ourselves in isn't gonna do that."

Craig drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his arms.

Rick scooted over to sit closer to him. "Listen, we're just gonna wait 'til this dies down. When it's dark. Then we'll get outta here. 'S gonna be a lot better."

Craig shook his head slowly.

"I guess… there's still time to go back," Rick said slowly. "If ya want."

Again, a very small shake of the head. Rick smiled and reached over to pat Craig's shoulder, making him wince. "There ya go. No turnin' back."

"I'm going to die out there anyway," Craig mumbled.

"Nope," Rick shot back. "Yer gonna be just fine. I'll take care 'a you."

One pale, reddened eye appeared over Craig's arm. Rick smiled encouragingly.

"Don't worry so much! I'll show ya the ropes, make sure everythin's okay. Promise."

"Even if you did, I wouldn't want that. If I can't survive on my own, there's no point," the smaller man mumbled, trembling a bit.

A big hand came down on his shoulders, and he stiffened. "Know how ya feel," Rick said quietly. "I don't like havin' to depend on anybody else. But you sure got me outta the tightest spot 'a my life back there, an' I wanna do the same fer you. You seem like a smart guy, you'll learn how to take care 'a yerself." He paused for a long moment, then continued more softly, "Livin' alone's not such a great thing, though."

"Do you live… with your family?" Craig's eyes were still on the dusty window, and the lights flashing by in the distance.

"Nah. I see 'em when I can. My one brother's got a wife an' a kid on the way, they're stayin' with my mom while he finds 'em a safe place… Said he'd heard about some good places down in the Caribbean, an' went off to find one. I didn't want him to go. None 'a us did, but we all got a double-dose 'a the stubborn gene…" Rick shrugged unhappily. "Said he wouldn't let his kid grow up here. Then my sister, she's just a couple years younger'n me… She doesn't talk much, but damn, she can do ANYTHING. She moves around a lot, like me, not tied down to anythin'." He paused. "…She wouldn't 'a got caught."

"You don't know that."

"You don't know HER. She c'n get her way outta anythin'. Tough as nails." Rick grinned nervously. "How long're those patrols gonna be out, ya think?"

"Until we are both dead," Craig muttered darkly.

"Give it an hour or two fer full dark," Rick decided softly.

Two hours later, the patrols were passing with less frequency.

"We need to go soon, or be caught in a full sweep," Craig snapped, taut as a bowstring.

"Sounds good to me." Rick looked out into the darkness. "Think I came in that way. This place all looks the same… What's the fastest way outta here?"

Craig swallowed, and Rick watched him try to get a grip. "The facility is in the center of the city," he said, his voice shaking a bit. "We are now slightly to the south. Continuing south would be the fastest way… to the edge."

Rick nodded. "Seemed like everythin's pretty much straight streets. But we're gonna zigzag; makes us harder to tail."

"On a grid-based street system, that will NOT help," Craig snapped.

"Not a sure thing, but it's GONNA help."

"You are thinking of prey animals in an open space. The same logic does not apply here."

"Yeah it DOES, just let me handle this!"

"You are CLEARLY unable to do so!"

"Think you c'n do better? Fine. What's YER perfect plan?" Rick seethed.

Craig froze. He didn't move a hair while Rick methodically checked the windows.

"Looks clear," Rick said softly. "C'mon."

Craig didn't move. Rick had the door cracked open before he realized he was alone.

"You comin' or not?"

Still the smaller man didn't move. Rick sighed in exasperation, closed the door, and walked back over across the dark room.

"Okay, look. I get that this's weird, an' it's gonna be hard fer you. No gettin' around that. But we gotta get movin', an' that means you too. Now you get one more chance if ya wanna back out now, but I'm goin', an' if yer comin' with me, there's no goin' back, an' yer gonna quit holdin' us up an' just run." Rick bent down a little to look Craig in the eye. "Last chance to turn back. After this, it's all forward, no matter what. An' we're gonna stick together. Got it?"

He grabbed for Craig's hand, and got the wrist. Craig shrank back, his breathing quickening. Rick held firm, his green eyes unwavering.

"You comin' or not?" Rick finally asked in a low rumble. "We gotta go now."

Craig's pupils were mere pinpoints, and he couldn't seem to speak or move or stop shaking.

After a minute, Rick gave a gentle tug on his wrist. "You wanna do this," he said softly. "You wanna get outta here. Don't sit here an' rot fer the rest 'a yer life. You c'n do better, darlin'."

An odd warmth blossomed in Craig's stomach, and he unclenched a bit, while his mind raced in circles trying to process this. "Wh-what?"

Rick could feel the blood rushing to his face. "Sorry. Just a habit. But I meant the rest." He loosened his grip to just lightly hold the thin wrist. "Up to you, but I hope you'll come."

"I – I can't… I'll… f-fall behind…"

The hand squeezed his wrist again, rough and warm. "I won't let ya."

The warmth increased, like a pull, and Craig took a small step forward.

A different smile, quieter but just as wide as it had ever been, spread over Rick's face. "There ya go," he murmured with another soft squeeze of Craig's wrist before letting go. "Stay close, now. I won't leave ya behind."

Once more Rick cracked the door open and looked out. When he decided the coast was clear, he turned back to make sure Craig was following him. He was close, clenching his hands tightly to try to keep from shaking. When Rick stepped out, he followed.

Rick moved like a prowling cat, his steps silent. Craig felt like his shoes clattered against the ground terribly, but no matter how he adjusted his step he couldn't fix it.

"I'm… too loud," he muttered, glancing around fearfully.

"Yer fine," Rick assured him, not looking back.

"I…" There was a rising note of panic in Craig's voice.

Rick turned back long enough to grab the other man's arm. "Yer FINE," he rumbled low, leaving no room for arguments.

They zigzagged through the dark streets, avoiding windows, even the darkened ones. They kept to the shadows and the edges. Now and then they pressed against a wall as a patrol passed by. Twice, they had to climb over walls. Craig's shaking only increased, and all higher thought seemed to have shut down; he was only able to follow Rick. From time to time the bigger man turned to check on him, and to give a nod of encouragement.

As the sound of heavy footsteps neared, Rick ducked into an alley. He had only gone a few feet in when he stopped and swore under his breath. There was a chain link fence blocking them from continuing. It wasn't short enough to easily jump over. There had been barbed wire on top, but it had sagged down on the other side. The wall of the city was visible beyond it.

"…Gonna have to go over," Rick muttered. "Fast." He pulled Craig up to the fence. "You first, c'mon."

A faint whimper escaped Craig's throat as he struggled to process the situation and do something about it.

Rick's face twisted in frustration, and he knelt down and laced his fingers together. "Step right here, I'll give ya a boost."

Even that was difficult, and he fell short twice before Rick's hands lowered to catch the shaking foot.

"Grab my shoulder fer a second," Rick hissed, and Craig had barely complied when he was being launched up in the air. He swallowed a scream and flailed around, managing to catch the top of the fence. "Up an' over," Rick directed him shortly, glancing back behind him.

He heard the fence clink as Craig fought to get over, but suddenly light shone on them both, and they froze.

"Hands where I can see them," A voice growled from behind the light.

Rick slowly turned, a furious snarl on his face. There was a thump from behind him as Craig fell to the ground with a hiss. Rick couldn't make out the people behind the three beams of light shining in his eyes.

"On your feet!" another voice barked. Rick heard a muffled whimper and rustle as Craig slowly complied. Both men's minds were reeling, desperately searching for a way out.

The light in the middle lowered a bit, and as the two men's eyes adjusted, they could see a silhouette raising a radio to his mouth.

With a strangled noise, Craig suddenly shoved his gun through a hole in the fence. The shots were almost silent, but Rick flinched and jumped away when he felt the wake of the bullet whiz past his shoulder. The squad holding the lights shouted and scattered as three more shots followed. Rick's heart raced as he leapt up to climb up and swing over the top of the fence, pushing off over the fallen barbed wire. When he hit the ground on the other side, Craig was doubled over heaving up the contents of his stomach and gasping for breath. He grabbed the shorter man's shirt and ran.

"Which way?" Rick growled as they neared the wall. There were guard posts every few blocks, but no apparent openings.

Craig was gasping and wheezing and fighting to catch his breath. Rick pulled him into an alley and swung him around to glare at him, squeezing his shoulders.

"C'mon, I need ya here. I didn't come in this way."

The smaller man flinched at the contact and tried to pull away, but Rick wouldn't let go. He struggled for a moment, then inhaled and finally focused on Rick.

"Th-there's…" He coughed, then hunched his back against a further barrage.

Rick looked around nervously while Craig continued to cough. "Where're we goin'?" he muttered when the spasms subsided a bit.

Craig looked up, shuddering hard. He looked like he was drowning on dry land. "O-over… there," he croaked out, pointing. "Past… Out of sight. A d-door. Stairs. Then there's… a passage." He swallowed thickly.

"That door locked?" Rick asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I… have keys…"

Rick looked down and smiled, tight but warm. "Ya know, you get more useful every minute." He patted one shoulder, the other hand still firmly holding the other shoulder. "Take it easy. We're almost outta here."

Craig shook his head, looking down miserably. "No, there… there are all kinds of… traps, guards, security measures…"

"That's just fine. I got this. …And you! Well, damn! I dunno if ya hit any 'a those guys, but you sure saved our asses back there!"

Craig shivered and hunched up.

"Got any shots left?"

"Two," Craig barely breathed.

Rick's face slowly fell. He looked at the smaller man for a long moment. "'S not gonna come to that," he said in a low, firm voice. "We're too close now."

"That only makes the chances of capture greater."

"Nope." Rick turned and strode away, pulling Craig along with him. The smaller man frequently stumbled and was shaking hard. "Not gonna happen. Yer not helpin' anything thinkin' like that. We're gonna get outta this hell-hole, an' it's not gonna be all roses an' clouds out there, but at least it's not THIS."

Craig's toe caught an irregularity in the pavement, and Rick had to hold him up as his knee buckled. They continued on until Craig pointed out a door, barely visible in the wall. There was no handle or knob, just a very small scanner next to it. Craig fumbled with his keys, barely able to even hold them, but eventually managed to scan the right one. The door slid open, and they hurried through.

"You okay?" Rick asked, pausing by the stairs.

"I…" Craig scowled. "Why… would you even ask that?"

"Sorry I'm pullin' ya through all this. Keep… keep breathin', pal. I'd stop an'…" He shrugged. "Do somethin', I dunno. But I figure you'd be better off passin' out than gettin' shot. …Or caught."

Craig's frown deepened, his breathing still labored. "I don't see how," he muttered.

"I could carry ya if it came to that. Yer not too heavy. We just gotta keep movin'."

"Let's go, then," Craig snapped.

The stairs seemed to stretch up forever.

"All that damn technology you got, an' nobody thought an elevator'd be a good idea?" Rick complained. Craig's lungs fought to expand, and he had to grip the railing tightly to keep from falling. At every clink and creak, his heart skipped a beat and he jerked back while clutching the railing even tighter. Rick just kept going.

At the top there was another keypad, and Craig dropped his keys three times before Rick finally picked them up.

"Here. Which one?" He held the keys out, and thin shaking fingers rifled through them.

At last Craig found the right one, and Rick scanned it. The door opened, and they stepped out onto the top of the wall.

"I… Rick, I don't… I'm not – I can't…" Craig panted.

"Too late to turn back now, sweet," Rick muttered, scanning the edge. Beyond was the rushing river, and seemingly endless dry plains.

Craig gasped a strangled breath. "N-no… I… I can't go back. There. To… that. I d-don't know… if I… but I won't… go back there."

Rick turned. "Nope. An' you'll be okay out here. Promise."

"You shouldn't promise things you can't deliver."

They whirled at the voice.

Craig stiffened at the two figures that appeared from the shadows. The Minister of Science's personal lackeys. Known only as Blue and Orange, the two were never seen apart, and obeyed only the icy, elegant Minister. They did her dirty work, everything from getting coffee to assassinations. They rarely spoke with others in the facility, but seemed to carry on long conversations with each other without ever speaking a word. Orange was tall and thin, with her long hair bound back in a braid that would have earned anyone else a reprimand. Blue was short and stocky, and kept her dark hair short. Craig had never seen them up close, though they were well-known in Aperture.

A humorless half-smile slowly formed on Orange's face. "Two fugitives. One prisoner, originating from the other side of the wall. And one…" She walked slowly up to them. "…Mr. Craig Winther. Deputy of Interrogation. Second Class."

"Surprising," Blue murmured, though she didn't follow her partner.

"I guess." Orange shrugged disinterestedly. "Just weak-minded, I think." They shared a glance, and smirked simultaneously.

Rick looked over at Craig, noting how stiff he had become. He tensed in response, and as Orange stepped close, he lashed out.

It was a good move: Swift, and with enough force behind it to knock an average person over.

Orange caught his fist and twisted it casually back, examining him more closely as he cringed and hissed and tried to pry his hand from her grip.

"What's wrong with this one?" she asked softly, pressing down with each of her fingers in turn. By the last one, Rick bit back a whimper.

The corner of Blue's mouth twitched up, and a moment later Orange's did the same, though she wasn't looking at her partner. She nodded. "SO stupid," she murmured, as if agreeing with someone.

Craig was still frozen. After a moment Orange let go of Rick's hand, and he clutched it to his chest. She walked up to Craig.

"Do you know that you employed a missile launcher and a cloud of poisonous dust to knock Mr. Wheatley out?" she asked with soft interest, her head tilting oddly as she gazed down at the shorter man.

"Wh-what?" Craig tried not to squeak.

"Yes. According to his report."

"Well I – obviously he's lying!"

"Obviously," Blue echoed quietly. Orange's eyes didn't move.

"What else could he be lying about?" Orange asked softly.

The four were silent then, watching each other. Craig was staring, almost unseeing, at Orange. The other three sets of eyes were all on him.

"…Yes," Orange continued, with another nod as if someone had spoken. "Both of them." Her eyes flicked over to Rick momentarily. "I believe HE would. But this one…" She cocked one disparaging eyebrow at Craig, who still shivered and tried unconsciously to make himself smaller. Orange nodded again and chuckled low. "Why are you out here?"

Rick's eyes narrowed. He edged a step closer to Craig.

Instantly, Orange was an inch from his face. "No," she whispered, and shoved him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Craig followed with a whimper. Still gasping for breath, Rick kicked out behind him, almost pushing the smaller man over in the process.

A steely grip caught his boot, and he froze.

"Stop." Orange's voice no longer held any humor.

Rick pulled and twisted. The panic was ebbing from his mind, and he was reviewing his options… Not many. They mostly involved being dragged back down all those stairs by the foot.

Craig was gasping next to him like a fish out of water. He squirmed and tried to pull himself up a bit. "Don't… go back," he wheezed, and coughed violently as his lungs fought to pull air in.

Rick forced his body to relax, leg going limp in Orange's grasp. "Nah," he mumbled in reply. "No goin' back now."

Blue was speaking softly into her radio. Orange pinched Rick's Achilles tendon hard before letting his foot drop to the ground. The toe bounced off the stone, but he wasn't paying attention. He was looking down at the long drop, the white water of the river, the bare plains beyond. He looked over at Craig, and gave a little nudge with his elbow. The smaller man looked back in dazed confusion.

This wasn't how Rick had imagined things would go. He didn't have big dreams like his brother. Not nearly as much ambition as his sister. He just wanted to break in, cause some trouble, and see what he could take with him on the way out. He'd figured he might be caught, but he'd had more confidence in himself, and less in… them. He certainly hadn't dreamed he'd be leaving with one of them. …Well, no, actually that scenario had come up. Kind of a damsel in distress who wanted him to carry her away from all this to a better life…

Huh. Craig hadn't been quite what he'd pictured. Even aside from the fact that he was a man, rather older than Rick, and seemed to just be going through one long, drawn-out panic attack since they'd left, he handled himself surprisingly well in a tight spot. And he'd actually saved Rick more than the other way around.

A smirk twisted its way onto Rick's face. That wasn't the way it was supposed to work. Time to fix that.

"Deep breath before we hit, an' tuck yer head in," he murmured, his arm slowly snaking through Craig's.

Craig blinked in confusion, focusing on the arm rather than the words. Orange paused in her eye contact with Blue, and turned back to the fugitives.

Rick bent one knee, braced himself, and launched himself up over the edge of the wall, dragging Craig along. Orange sprinted to grab at them, and caught Craig's ironed pant cuff. Craig shrieked, and Rick planted a foot on the wall and HEAVED.

Orange almost came down with them, but they were halfway to the water when the shots were fired. Craig screamed first as agony tore through his arm and shoulder. Rick yelped and hissed as he felt his leg split apart, up to the hip.

They hit the water with a crash. Blue and Orange continued to shoot as they washed downstream.

Blue frowned at Orange when they stepped away. Orange frowned back and shook her head. Blue's shoulders slumped, and Orange quickly put an arm around her.


	3. Pieces

**Epilogue: Pieces**

She was crude and filthy, probably completely illiterate, and couldn't understand the simplest of words, this strange woman from outside. Must have brain damage, Wheatley had decided. He suspected that living beyond the city wall had a deteriorating effect on the brain.

But he had to admire her spirit. She didn't back down, and showed no fear in the face of the maze full of traps and certain death that was Aperture. And she listened to him. And often did what he told her to.

NO ONE did that.

That's why he had decided to help her, and because when he'd shyly asked if he could come with her, she shrugged and nodded as if to say, 'Sure, why not?'

Why not, indeed! Why… who wouldn't want his help? He knew this place like the back of his hand. He WORKED here, how could he not?

He didn't know how she'd gotten as far as she did on her own, but she was definitely grateful for his help. He could tell, even though she didn't say it. She didn't say ANYTHING. But she always watched him. It made him feel important. Even if she DID look horrible and smell funny.

He hadn't wanted to go through the Minister's chamber, but it was the only way out. She was neck-deep in paperwork, but she caught them quickly. Before she could do anything, though, the lady had backed her into a corner, looking like she might rip her in two with just her teeth. That had given Wheatley a perfect opportunity to grab her headset.

It wasn't so hard, controlling everything that went on here. He'd worked in Aperture for… well, since he finished school. A long time! And he'd always had some ideas about how this place should be run. How he'd run it. If he ever had the chance. And now he did, and they'd ALL see what a really SMART man he was. He didn't have time for playing Escape anymore. Now he had something IMPORTANT to do!

But she didn't understand. The lady glared at him and waved her hands about and just wouldn't listen to reason. So Wheatley poked around at the headset's capabilities and opened a panel in the floor under both women. That would teach them to defy him, and to call him a – well, he didn't want to think about it.

…Chell hadn't trusted him, but the betrayal still shocked her. It shouldn't have. And now she worked her way through the test chambers with her nemesis beside her – the one ultimately responsible for destroying her family. For killing her father and most of her brothers. The disappearance of her closest brother, Rick, had just been the last straw.

The surprise was how… tolerable the Minister was. Caroline. She'd had another name, her official one, but eventually it became clear that the headset was more than a mobile set of controls. Caroline was who she had been before that.

Wheatley caused more destruction just by being in control than Chell could have ever dreamed of causing. He would have destroyed the whole city, maybe blown a crater in the Earth ten times that size. But he released the inhabitants of the lab, and they were out for blood. Even Blue and Orange were at his command, or at least they did what he told them to while he was watching. He locked himself in the central chamber and quaked with fear, still fighting to run tests and keep all the processes running and above all LOOK CALM. He failed at each attempt.

And when the two women entered through a secret door that he hadn't known to lock, he STILL tried to attack them. To KILL them.

"Death's too good for this moron," Caroline muttered to Chell, her face hardening.

While Chell distracted him, Caroline went to the mainframe and performed a manual override that only she knew how to do. The headset delivered a powerful shock that made Wheatley see stars. By the time he was coherent once more, his head was bare and the two women were standing over him while Blue and Orange roughly bound his hands.

Wheatley swallowed thickly and tried to focus on Chell. "I… I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry," he whispered brokenly.

She regarded him coolly, but didn't respond.

Chell was the first person to be asked to leave Aperture. Caroline opened a way for her, only she was GLaDOS now, operating both the genetic lifeforms and every disk of the facility. Chell hesitated. GLaDOS had offered a twisted smirk under Caroline's eyes, and the elevator Chell stood in rose, up and out.

When she was gone, GLaDOS sent Orange and Blue away. Then, alone again, she sank down into her chair of command and wearily set about fixing her home.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000000

When the young woman saw the two figures staggering towards her in the distance, she paused for a long moment before going inside the little house. It was hidden in the ruins of the foothills that had once been a city, but it had a good view of the land around it. It was defensible. Safe. …Relatively safe, anyway.

"It's nothing to worry about," the older woman said firmly, coming to the window to look out.

"But we don't even know who they are! Where did they come from? City 25's that way, isn't it? With… with Aperture!"

"That's right. That's where Chell went. And Rick…" The older woman's voice trailed off, and her tired face solidified into hardness.

"Is… could it be them?" asked her daughter-in-law softly, her hands going instinctively to the roundness under her shirt.

The older woman squinted. "I don't know…"

They continued to watch until the elder got tired of the younger's fidgeting.

"Go start a fire, put the kettle on, you're not doing any of us any good here!" she scolded. Then she went back to squinting out the window. "…I think that's Rick," she finally said, much more softly. "Don't know who's with him."

"He's hurt," the younger woman said after a while.

"I can see that." Rick's mother's voice was flat. She watched for a while longer. The bigger figure stumbled and hopped and grabbed the smaller's shoulder, just, JUST like Rick.

She quickly went to the door and was striding across the rubble as fast as her feet would carry her.

Rick had found himself a sturdy stick to lean on as soon as he could, but with a shattered femur that he'd managed to bind up somehow, he'd had to ask Craig for help. A lot. And with the smaller man's broken arm, he couldn't offer too much. It had been slow going. They'd been on the move for a few weeks now. But Craig didn't automatically jerk away from every touch anymore, which Rick counted as a major success. For one thing, he wasn't overbalancing on his good leg and falling on his face so much anymore.

The approaching woman had Craig tensing up and slowing, though.

"It's… That's my mom, don't worry," Rick said, relief washing over his pained face.

The woman, about as tall as Rick but a bit stockier, stalked right up and punched his shoulder.

Rick flinched as Craig shied away. "Ow! Mom, quit! I almost died, ya know!"

She punched him in the stomach, harder. "Goddamn it, Rick, I told you not to be an idiot. What does it take for you to listen to sense?" Then she was hugging him tightly.

Rick coughed and gasped and laughed breathlessly. "Shit, Mom, next time I want some danger, I'll just come see you." He hugged her just as tightly.

Craig crept back a few slow steps. Not only was this strange and disturbing, but he was intruding on this… whatever this was. His family had never been affectionate, but this… he didn't even know what to call this. It was rough and violent and chaotic, but also needy and afraid and… _deeply_ attached.

After a while Rick's mother pulled away to just look at him, as if memorizing him bit by bit. She held his face between her hands and looked into his eyes, then moved her hands down his arms and his chest, down his sides. She stopped at his injured leg and made a soft, sad sound. "Oh Rick, what'd you get yourself into?" she murmured unhappily.

"I'm fine, Mom." His voice was subdued, and sounded steady, but his eyes dropped to the side.

"And who's your friend here?" She gestured sharply to Craig, who recoiled and took a step back, clutching his arm in a sling.

Rick's head snapped up and his expression cleared. "Oh! Mom, this's Craig. He saved my ass a bunch 'a times in Aperture an' the city, then he helped me out on the way back here, too."

The big woman stepped away from Rick to walk slowly up to Craig, who stood his ground now, stiff and as tall as he could stand. She looked him up and down critically.

"First time outside?" she asked in a low voice, looking him straight in the eye. There was knowledge there, an understanding that was entirely unwelcome. A test she knew full well he couldn't pass.

It was a technique he himself used. Often. He knew the exact mechanics of the expression, the body language, and the few words that could crack the hardest façade. It often took time, but it tended to be effective.

Craig was… starting to get used to some things out here. Rick was teaching him about what could be eaten and how to prepare it, how to start a fire, how to hunt, how to tell if an animal was dangerous, how to build shelter, how to orient himself without a map and signs. In a way he was starting to unwind… a bit. But he was still coiled and knotted up inside so tightly that it felt like he might never relax again, and everything was unfamiliar, and he couldn't do the simplest things to take care of himself, and he was in constant pain, he wasn't eating much, he had barely slept at all since they left, he was really only still upright because Rick couldn't walk well enough on his own –

"He took out ten 'a the president's assassins all at once!"

"Don't start, Rick," his mother snapped.

The smaller man's head dropped and he began haltingly. "I was an interrogator for Aperture, I was interrogating… your… Rick, and he… and I…"

Rick's hand came down on his good shoulder, and he both flinched away and huddled into it. Rick grinned. "He got me outta there, past all the security, an' showed me how to get outta the city. An' I woulda taken twice as long to get back if it hadn't been fer him. …Not to mention I'd be dead, or worse!"

Rick's mother hadn't taken her eyes off Craig, her paler green eyes boring into him. She took a step closer, and he steeled himself to be beaten to a bloody pulp.

She took his good hand between both of hers and squeezed it tightly. "Listen here, Craig," she said, deadly serious. "If you cross us, I'm gonna make you wish you were dead. Understand?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed. He understood all too well the look in her eyes, and she could see it as plainly as if he had told her.

Her face cleared and she smiled Rick's big, warm smile, and pulled him close, being careful to avoid his arm. "I've lost too many people I love in there," she murmured close to his ear. "I can't ever thank you enough for bringing this idiot back."

Craig was frozen stiff. After a while he managed an incoherent mumble.

She patted him and let go, stepping back. "Good for you for getting out, too," she said softly. Then she looked over at Rick again. "Any word from your sister?"

"Chell?" Rick looked up in surprise. "Not fer a while. Thought she was headin' up here again."

"She went up to the city."

Rick's face fell. "I… I didn't see her." He looked over at Craig hopefully, but the shorter man shook his head. One painful night when neither of them could sleep, he had reviewed the names of the prisoners he had interrogated. There were hundreds. He remembered them all, but only because he rarely forgot things. They hadn't meant anything to him.

"…Well… she's a tough one…" The older woman's face struggled to remain hard. "She'll… I'm sure she'll be just fine. No sense worrying about what you can't change."

"Mom, you worry about me all the time!" Rick complained.

"Rick, I swear if you don't shut up, I'll SHUT you up! You two, come on inside." She turned and strode back to the house.

Rick took a faltering step, then turned back to look at Craig. "Comin'?"

The smaller man was gazing at the woman ahead with concern.

Rick hobbled back and grabbed Craig's good shoulder. "My mom's glad to have ya. An' so'm I. I still need ya around."

Craig looked him in the eye. "That is an outright lie," he said severely.

"I want you to stay, then," Rick amended. "Mom's prob'ly gonna make sure I don't move an inch fer about a year, but yer good company." Craig looked doubtful, and Rick chuckled. "Yeah, surprisin', I know. But c'mon. Just 'til yer arm heals up. Mom's real good with broken bones an' that kinda thing, she'll fix us both up. …After she chews me out fer doin' it wrong. Not like I could do any better when we had to run from the second we hit the ground! But yeah. Just 'til you c'n use it again. You don't wanna be out there with just one arm."

The paler face twisted in pain and confusion. Rick watched him for a moment, then squeezed his shoulder.

"'S gonna be fine," he said, quiet but confident. "C'mon."

Craig's eyes snapped back into focus. He let out a sharp sigh and stepped out towards the hidden house. "Don't stand around out here," he snapped. "You leave yourself vulnerable to attack. I don't know how you survived this long…"

Rick grinned as he leaned on the smaller man and hobbled towards home.


End file.
